Return
by melkyre
Summary: When it's all said and done... Reid centric. "It Takes a Village".


_Expecting life to treat you well just because you're a good person is like expecting an angry bull not to charge you because you're a vegetarian._

_Unknown_

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><p>Doctor Spencer Reid didn't really know what to do with himself.<p>

Life, usually a long and bloody process, was a fairly straight forward road for him. In his genius brain, his constantly learning and transforming mind, people left him. That was true, with many people including his father, Gideon, Elle and of course, Emily.

Yes, people left him quite a lot. He had learnt to deal with this, to cope. But he wasn't sure how to deal with _someone coming back._

Of course his logical brain rebelled. Words came out of his mouth, almost out of his own will."_But we buried her." _Coming back, that was not a possible conclusion. Swirling in the murky soup of slippery thoughts, Emily Prentiss was cold and dead and he had accepted this. He had the statistics in his knots of brain function, proving that she could not be alive.

Obviously this was blown to bits when the very same woman walked in the room, but that does not mean he computed it well. For a very long moment, Spencer wondered if he had gone insane, and was joining his mother soon.

He hadn't.

The last seven months had been hard on Spencer. Yes, they had been hard on everyone. Hotch ducked his head and grew a beard—

"_Seriously?"_ Spencer had thought, blinking his hazel eyes at the almost unrecognizable Unit Chef. "_A beard? Is he trying out for ZZ Top?"_

-living halfway across the world for a couple weeks. Garcia moped and cried, but she was coping. Morgan was angry but productive, hunting down Doyle in his spare time. Rossi—well, Rossi is kind of a brick wall when it comes to most things, and this was no exception.

But Reid... he spent hours in the shooting range. He stopped reading for pleasure. He withdrew, him and his headaches and his statistics. Slowly, he lost the naive charm and built a thick coated shell, making himself into a FBI agent, and not _just _geeky Reid.

It was hard.

Therefore, when Emily walked in that room, Spencer was thrown. His internal processes tossed and sent him on an axis, inclining him in a direction that he could not control.

Emily began to apologize and Garcia rushed forward instantly, giving Emily a hug so tight her breath hitched. Rossi patted her shoulder, giving her a low smile and a relieved glance. Hotch nodded, and the two of them shared a brief smile.

20,000 words per minute are quite a lot. Sometimes his thoughts spilt out like tumbling cartons of milk and spread themselves all out on the linoleum, leaving Spencer to scramble and mop them up before anyone noticed. In this instance, he realized he was angry. A tight, small burning anger that would've rivaled Morgan's had he released it.

Somehow, Spencer saw the situation as more of a betrayal. Yes, she left. He could deal with that, he had done so. But coming back... that wasn't on the map, not in the formula. It made him fume internally, and looking at her soft face and truly guilty eyes, Spencer stepped on the anger like a lit cigarette butt.

Not a word was passed, but he found his long legs striding forward and giving her a hug. The dead woman wrapped his arms around him, and he gently patted her back. His brain just sort of... shut down, leaving him with the only thing he knew.

Work.

Prentiss turned the conversation back to the case and Spencer flung himself back into it, distracting his broken mind from the twisted logic of Emily returning.

Seeing Emily made his stomach churn in an uneasiness that had never lingered before. A headache sprung up like summer lilies and he did not even flinch. It was pounding against his skull, rattling his teeth in his ears, but he made no outwardly signs of the discomfort. As he had done for seven months now.

When it was all said and done...

At the end of the day, when everything was over and he was alone, Spencer was lost.

Lost in thought, lost in life, lost in his little world in which statistics float around in red balloons and his old dog Mercutio collected them with his slimy teeth.

Or he fell asleep on the scratchy green couch, either way.

Spencer woke up, and sat forward with his elbows on his knees and hands folded. Then he ran his fingers through his sandy hair and pushed his palms into his aching head.

He thought over everything, and then concluded that he was still angry. About everything, about the lying, about the leaving, about the picture on the wall. He was tired but not tired enough and very hungry. He got up to eat and stared into his fridge, at the Tupperware containers of dim colored leftovers and juices. He felt the roll of hunger squirm in his stomach but the urge to consume was not raging behind it. He closed the fridge.

But he was still hungry, and the lack of food and the seven (and a half) cups of sugar doused coffee didn't help. In fact, he found himself leaning on the counter, dizzy.

The world spun around him in dips and weaves, not helping his head at all. The desire to sit down struck him.

Naturally, since he was leaning heavily against his counter, feeling dizzy, hungry, tired, sore and angry, there had to be someone knocking on his door.

Spencer wanted to sit down and place his head between his legs much more than he wanted to answer the door, but he pushed off the counter and walked to the door, fingering the lock and twisting it open.

He should've been surprised when Prentiss was on the other side, but he couldn't bring himself to be.

"Emily." Spencer said, one of his hands behind the door holding onto the knob with white knuckles since it was how he was still standing.

"Hey." Emily replied, in that way that she does, where she tries to convey emotions into one word. Spencer licked his lips nervously, a tiny bit unsure what to say next. He was glad when she spoke again. "I just came to see... see if you were alright."

"I'm alright." Spencer said, wishing he was back in his dark apartment because the light was making him squint. "Want something to drink?"

Emily seemed at ease with the friendly offering. "That'd be great, thanks."

Spencer let her inside, knowing she won't mind the books stacked on every flat surface or the case files hanging precariously off the back of his itchy green couch. It's as if nothing has changed in seven months, and he poured her a cup of decaf coffee and had half a cup for himself.

"How have you been?" she asked him, shrugging off her coat and gently placing it on the arm of a chair.

Spencer wanted to tell her how fantastic his life had been, attending funerals and mourning a friend-but that's petty and cruel and simply not how Spencer operates. Instead, he gave her a weak smile.

"I survived." He took a sip of the decaf, but doesn't again because his hand shook and he didn't want Prentiss to notice.

"I'm glad, really." She flexed her fingers, and the profiler in Spencer can tell she's riddled with guilt.

Spencer leaned on the counter again, his long legs complaining with tired muscles.

"You seem tired." She noticed.

As if waiting for a cue, Spencer reached up and rubbed his eyes lazily. "I am. Sorry."

Emily bit her lip, looking into her mug. "I'm really, really, sorry, Reid."

Spencer just wanted to sit down, but if he stopped leaning on the counter at this point, he'd tumble into jello on the floor.

"I know." He answered quietly.

"It's alright if you're mad at me." Emily said, again with her dark eyes glued to the lip of the cup. "I'd understand."

"I'm just tired." Spencer wasn't really angry at her—not with her talking to him, in the flesh. The anger was more towards... towards the ones who didn't come back.

"Are you alright?" the same question as the one at the door, but this time Emily's voice is tinged with worry. Spencer swallowed.

"Yeah, just..." Exhaustion fell over him in heavy repeating waves, and the world spun like a whizzing top.

Next time he managed to crack his hazel eyes again, he was seated—_thank god—_Emily talking to him in low, concerned tones.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. "I must be more tired than I thought."

"Reid..."

"I'm fine." Spencer looked over and his coffee is on the floor. "I'm really sorry."

"Is it the headaches?" Prentiss pressed a hand to his forehead and he almost laughs.

"Yeah, a little bit. I haven't eaten in a while, or slept, so I'm kind of a mess." Reid shrugged helplessly.

Emily pursed her lips. "Do you need anything?"

"Tylenol?" Spencer asked hopefully.

Emily dug a little tube out of her purse and rattled two into his palm. He didn't want to get up to get a cup of water so he took a swig from Emily's mug. She didn't comment.

"Anything else?"

Spencer didn't know what he wanted. "That's good, thanks Emily."

She flexed her fingers, looking nervous again. "You've changed, Reid."

A slight tense and he rubbed his forehead again. "Yeah."

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Reid stopped rubbing for a brief moment. "No."

"Reid?"

He didn't say anything.

Emily felt a smooth ball of apprehension insert itself in her throat.

"I'm just tired." He winds a thin arm around his empty stomach, but the moment is replaying in his head. Sitting with Strauss...

"Thanks for the coffee." Emily stood up and Spencer does too, but it goes very left very fast so Emily is at his elbow again.

"Careful." She led him forward, and he can't focus so he let her. Emily helped the dizzy genius to his room and gave him a warm hug.

"Thanks." He mumbled into her hair.

"No problem. I'll see you on Monday?" she pulled back and smiled.

Spencer slumped on his bed. "Of course. I'm going to past out until then."

"Alright. See you later." She waved and walked out his bedroom door.

"Emily?" Spencer said quietly, so she paused in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Welcome home."

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><p><em>You have to hurt in order to know. Fall in order to grow. Lose in order to gain. Because most of life's lessons are learned in pain.<em>

_Unknown_

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><p>AN – "I am calm, and it's <em>doctor."<em> I could not include the line, but by god Spence you are one BAMF so far. Also, watch everything I wrote here get contradicted later in the season. Review please, my loves!


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